The Delectable Game
by Tango Fox
Summary: Jim Moriarty had always loved games. And games are so much more fun when you have someone to play with.  Rated M for eventual MorMor slash & violence


1-1

Jim tapped his foot impatiently as he checked his watch for the fourth time. Moran was late as usual, and that meant he would be late too. He never liked to leave without having all his information, and having a head of staff like Sebastian Moran was very irritating. He always got carried away when he was working, got too into it, took too long. Once or twice

Nobody gets to see the Jim Moriarty that Seb sees. To everyone else, Jim is a maniacal, psychopathic criminal. With Seb, he is a spoilt child.

Jim tapped his foot impatiently, checking his watch for the eighth time since he entered the room. Sebastian was late. Again. He stood in his expensive Soho apartment, looking excruciatingly exquisite and painfully dangerous. Dressed in a charcoal Dolce & Gabbana suit, he had pieced it with a crisp white shirt and his favourite McQueen skull tie. He always wore that tie when he was working on something important; it brought him much needed luck. He had finished his personal work with ease, but it seemed Sebastian was having his usual trouble with timekeeping. This seemed to happen all too often. Moran got carried away, played with his prey. He turned a simple task into a game. Jim couldn't possibly complain though, everything that he did was a game, so it was nice to work alongside someone who shared his enthusiasm. He glanced back down at his Breitling watch. Almost an hour late now. Jim didn't have time for this. He was supposed to be heading out for a meeting, but he wanted the full report from Moran before he left.

He began to walk up and down the room in an attempt to ease his restlessness. If this were anyone else, Jim would have burned them long ago for pissing him off. But when it came to Moran, he had a certain amount of respect for the man, he allowed himself to let a few things slide. Sebastian Moran was the best damn shot he had ever seen, he sent shivers down Jims spine every time he fired a gun. He was good with other weapons too, knives in particular. He had once shown Jim the perfect was to cut someone up and avoid hitting any main arteries. He had even let Jim have a little go with the prey, laughing gruffly as Jim played with the blade. Of course afterwards Jim had taken Sebastian back to his bed; he always did that after he participated in finalise. It was a wonderful way to release all those emotions.

Sebastian was nothing like the relationship between Sherlock and John, that was something that repulsed him. Sebastian would never be Jims pet, he had self respect, and he knew his rank. That was the one thing Jim liked about having Moran as his chief of staff, he never challenged Jim, he never stepped out of line, and he just played the perfect part of his right hand man. Sure, a few times they had been in bed together, but Jim had done that with other workers, for him it was just another way to show that he was in power, in charge. He could see how different it was with Sherlock, he could see the signs as the man begin to develop feelings for his lapdog.

He checked his watch again and walked to look out of the window. No sign of him anywhere. He really should call, but he didn't want to distract him if he were still working. For all he knew the job had turned out to be more difficult than presumed, and that's why it was taking longer. Jim had been working towards this for months now. A German drug smuggling ring had been attempting to move in on his territory and after much research and studying, he had decided it was time to deliver them a friendly message. Jim had asked Moran to go and take out the figurehead efficiently. It would take a good few months for them to find a replacement, that was if they were stupid enough to try muscle in on his territory again. It was common knowledge that the illustrious yet mysterious Moriarty owned Europe, but every so often new players joined the game, and forgot who the King was. Jim had to make sure they all learnt the hard way. He worked painfully hard on his empire, and even after he had gone it would take a genius to topple him.

He sat back down on the office chair and drummed his fingers on the desk, staring at the blank wall. He let his mind wander, imagining what Sebastian could be doing with the German. In his mind, Moran would have sat concealed near the building for at least two hours. He liked to get there early, have time to set up. The German would probably have two security officers with him; Sebastian would take them out with two clean shots. He would probably wound the German with his rifle then, buying himself time to stash his rifle and get down to his location. He licked his lips as he imagined Sebastian approaching the wounded man, taking out his hunting knife, carving pretty patterns all over his sallow skin. Jim had seen Seb work on people before, and he knew his fondness for drawing out the execution before he slit their throat from ear to ear. He liked to do that slowly too, liked to hear the gurgling as they choked on their own blood. What a sick fucker. Jim liked it too though, but he liked the eyes better. He liked gazing into them as all light is extinguished from them; he likes the look of pure terror that comes when he is the last thing people see.

He shifts slightly in his chair feeling himself getting uncomfortably excited at his thoughts. He wasn't like this before Moran started working for him. The violence filled him with glee but it never excited him like it did now. It was just so much more fun with an almost equal player. Moran enjoys his games, laughs when Jim destroys people, allows himself to be used and abused when the criminal feels like it. He was just perfect for Jims needs. Well, he was when he wasn't ridiculously late.

An hour and a half late now. If Sebastian didn't have a delectable story for when he returned, Jim Moriarty would be very irritated indeed.


End file.
